


Table For Two

by Hella_Queer



Series: Dom for Hire AU [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom for Hire AU, Humiliation, Kinktober 2017, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Teasing, tsukkikage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:12:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12267693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hella_Queer/pseuds/Hella_Queer
Summary: Kageyama watches golden brown eyes zero in on his location, sees them widen in surprise before closing in what looks like absolute delight. Kageyama wants to scream.Because Tsukishima Kei is Yamaguchi’s plus one.





	Table For Two

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober #5: Humiliation (TsukkiKage)

*

*

*

 

_”I'm terribly sorry, King, but something came up tonight. I'll have to postpone our session.”_

Kageyama still isn't used to these kinds of conversations, even after a month and a half of having them. But Tsukishima has never canceled on him before, or pushed a session back, so he's awfully curious now, not that he voices it. There's an unspoken rule that they don't divulge anything about their personal lives, and he refuses to turn this into more than what it is.

“Stop talking like you're someone's assistant,” he says to get rid of the awkward way his tongue sits in his mouth. “And it's fine, actually. I got roped into something, anyway.”

More like he completely forgot about the company party celebrating Karasuno’s merger with Shiratorizawa. It's a rather important function, and he's ashamed with himself for not remembering. His assistant, Hitoka, has left him far too many reminders because she knows how short his attention span is. Still, he's a little disappointed that Tsukishima canceled first.

 _”Overseeing your kingdom, no doubt.”_ Tsukishima gets quiet for a moment. Kageyama holds his breath, wondering for the first time if his breathing is ever too loud over the phone. He hates feeling so self conscious when they weren't in the same room. At least then he could read his face, search his eyes to find his mood. Going off of words alone was dangerous.

 _“I think I have an idea.”_ The shift in Tsukishima’s tone is subtle, but Kageyama picks up on it immediately. _”While you're busy at your little work function, why don't you try out the gift I gave you.”_ it's less of a suggestion and more of a challenge, one that Kageyama has to fight not to accept.

“Why? You won't even see me with it.”

_”Don't pout, King.”_

“I'm not.” Kageyama fixes his face into a neutral expression. He hears Tsukishima’s smirk before he even speaks, so at least his ability to sense his mood isn't one sided.

 _”It's up to you. But if you do wear it, send me pictures.”_ A joke. Probably.

Tonight would've been their sixth session, which wasn't a milestone or anything, but Kageyama had fallen into a comfortable routine: straighten up, prepare dinner for later, shower. Tsukishima got to work as soon as he entered, but afterwards he'd stay a little longer, past the aftercare, just because he felt like it. And it's not as if Kageyama liked when he did this, but he didn't dislike it either. 

The word _Liar_ flashes in neon colors in his mind.

“Fine, whatever.” He pauses, lips twisting to the side. “Have a nuff...knife.. nice time. Tonight.”

Tsukishima laughs, a surprised snort that's cut short. Kageyama feels heat rise to his face as the man pesters him, calling him adorable and asking him to say it again so he can record it. So far it's the most open he's ever been, and Kageyama finds himself eyeing the little black box on his bookshelf.

It can't hurt to try it out, right?

____________________

Kageyama’s eyes scan the room, a glass of champagne in his hand. People compliment his suite as they pass by. It’s a nice, dark grey, two piece that Hitoka picked out for him. Slim fit with a little pocket square thing that's blue to match his eyes. He's never understood what they're for, so he doesn't try to mess with it, fearful of ruining the perfect folds.

The banquet hall was modestly decorated, tables arranged in small clusters around the center of the room, which was being used as a dance floor. Kageyama has already spoken to Ushijima-san, almost losing his hand when the other man's firm grip crushed his fingers. They seem to have similar mannerisms and ideas, so he doesn't think working together will be a problem.

“Sorry I'm late!” 

Kageyama half turns and raises his glass to an approaching Yamaguchi. His hair is a little windswept, but otherwise he's very put together in his traditional black dress pants and dark green button-up. His tie is a similar green with accents of silver, and Kageyama recognizes it as the gift he gave him for his birthday last year. 

“Cutting it close, aren't you?” Kageyama says with a rare half smirk. He liked Yamaguchi. He was trustworthy and a hard worker, even when he lacked punctually.

The man bows in front of him, looking back over his shoulder once he stands back up. “I'm sorry, but it's not my fault this time!” He holds his hands out in front of him as if to ward off Kageyama's knowing look. “My plus one took forever to decide what to wear. He's a real handful sometimes.”

“Plus one?” Kageyama searches the room until he spots Hitoka by the doors in the back, holding up her electronic planner to a flustered looking cook. Yamaguchi follows his line of sight and grins.

“Yacchan said she'd be too busy to babysit me, so I brought my closest friend.” He suddenly looks a little nervous. “That's okay, right?”

“Of course.” Kageyama didn't care who showed up as long as they behaved themselves. He had thought about inviting Hinata, but he got so drunk at the last function. Tonight needs to go off without a hitch, no slip ups or surprises to throw him off his game.

”You leave me at the door and don't even offer to take my coat. Hitoka sure is a lucky one, Tadashi.”

Kageyama chokes on his champagne, loudly and embarrassingly dramatic. He tries not to bend over or draw anymore attention to himself, but Yamaguchi pats his back and hands him a napkin, and by then it's too late. He watches golden brown eyes zero in on his location, sees them widen in surprise before closing in what looks like absolute delight. Kageyama wants to scream.

Because Tsukishima Kei is Yamaguchi’s plus one.

Now Kageyama wishes he had made a bigger scene, maybe drawn a crowd to put some bodies between him and the man striding towards him holding a glass of water. Tsukishima is unfairly attractive wearing all black, from his shirt to his shoes. Like an archangel. Or a demon. 

“Are you alright, sir?” He offers Kageyama the glass of water after a perfectly timed hesitation, and adjusts his glasses as if nervous.

Kageyama is very much not alright, but he buys himself time by chugging down the water. He doesn't mean to make eye contact, the exact opposite actually, but he does. Those intense eyes follow the bob of his throat as it moves, and Kageyama feels heat gather at the highest points of his cheeks.

“Fine,” he finally gets out. “I'm fine. Thank you..” Yamaguchi jumps in, unintentionally saving him.

“Ah, yeah, this is the friend I was telling you about.” He smiles, throwing an around the taller man’s neck. “Tsukishima Kei! Tsukki, this is my boss, Kageyama-san.”

“What have I told you about calling me that in public?”

“Dunno, I always ignore it.”

Their easy banter throws Kageyama sideways. He's used to low tones and teasing and cold detachment. Here Tsukishima sounds almost...nice. And that nickname was way too cute for someone like him!

Tsukishima comes closer, arm extended, and Kageyama quells his urge to do something he shouldn't do in public. Like kneel and kiss his knuckles like he's been instructed to do whenever Tsukishima showed up to his door. 

_Be humble, King. My presence here is your gift._

“It's an honor to meet you, Kageyama-san. I hear you run a very successful empire.” Tsukishima’s hand is warm and firm in his. They shake twice, polite, then pull away. Kageyama wants to imagine the lingering squeeze to his fingers but he isn't sure he can handle it.

Blessedly, dinner is served at that very moment, and Yachi appears at his side and guides him to his table in the center of the room. Kageyama’s shoulders sag in relief at seeing Ushijima-san and his assistant Semi. He sits, folding his napkin over his lap, breathing in deeply through his nose. He feels better now, back in control.

Until he notices the empty chair on Yachi’s right side, the vacant one on his left. Until he sees Yamaguchi scurrying over with a sheepish smile, and Kageyama has this hopeless notion that his employee will sit next to him instead of his girlfriend. Which doesn't happen.

As Tsukishima takes the chair next to him—their chairs are entirely too close and no one seems to have a problem with it—Kageyama sincerely regrets not inviting Hinata.

____________________

Somewhere between his second glass of champagne and the arrival of dessert, Kageyama’s table abandons him. When other couples journey to the dance floor, Yamaguchi and Yachi ask the other to dance at the same time. Ushijima gets a call, and after five minutes of silently listening to whoever, he bows and offers his apologies for needing to leave early, Semi in tow. Kageyama feels glued to his seat. He's all out of chocolate cake and has not a single excuse in front of him.

“What's wrong, King?” Tsukishima purrs. He picks up one of his strawberries from what remains of his shortcake, and licks off the cream. Kageyama feels lightheaded. “I thought you'd be happy to see me.”’

Kageyama frowns, because it's the only face he can make in this situation. He’s not _not_ happy to see Tsukishima. In a different venue he'd be happ—excit—seeing him would be nice. 

The man made him nervous and put him on edge, but he still hasn't decided if it's in a good way or not.

“When Yamaguchi asked me to be his date I thought I'd die from boredom.” Seriously who allowed their chairs to be this close? Tsukishima’s foot finds his ankle under the table and lightly pins it to a chair leg. Kageyama can break away easily, but they both know he won't. It's a symbolic gesture more than an actual attempt to trap him. “How lucky for you that I decided to attend.”

“We can't do anything here,” Kageyama says in a rush. Ushijima may be gone, but the banquet hall is filled with people. People who look up to him, admire him, who hate him and watch him eagerly, trying to find his faults and exploit his weaknesses. And his most recent one is smirking like a cat who got the cream.

There's a hand on his knee. Fingers squeeze on either side of it, and for a second Kageyama’s legs begin to part, before he snaps them closed. That dangerous smirk grows under Kageyama’s glare. He shifts in his seat, then shifts again, eyebrows pulling down. “I'm serious. Not he—”

“You're wearing it, aren't you?”

Those eyes bore into Kageyama, daring him to lie, hoping that he does so Tsukishima can call his bluff. But there's something else, too, something Kageyama hasn't seen in the other man before. He licks his lips, bites down when that hand slides higher up his leg. Someone is watching them, they have to be, because there's no way that Tsukishima is feeling him up right here in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by all of Kageyama’s employees and coworkers, without being noticed. 

“Be honest, King.” Kageyama presses his legs together, trapping that hand in between his thighs. He wants to walk away, wants to take back control and tell Tsukishima to fuck off. He wants to travel back in time and stop himself from ever contacting him. 

“Yes.”

He wants to find out if that look in Tsukishima’s eyes is a threat or a promise. He's not sure which excites him more.

“Show me.”

“What!” People have to be looking now. “I'm not doing that here.” His chest tightens with anxiety and anticipation as Tsukishima rises to his feet.

“I'm sorry to interrupt your call, Kageyama-san, but would you mind showing me the restroom? I wouldn't want to bother Tadashi.” He tilts his head in the direction of the dance floor, where Yamaguchi and Yachi are swaying and stepping on each other's feet, looking completely smitten with each other.

Kageyama stands stiffly, subtly fixing his jacket so that the front folds over his waist. He's ashamed that so little touching has him half hard already, but he doesn't have too much time to dwell on it.

“Not a problem,” he says in a voice that doesn't match the heat at the back of his neck. “I can take it in the lobby.”

Leaving the ballroom and the hum of noise is like stepping through to a different dimension. The halls are deserted, their footsteps barely making a sound on the carpeted floor. Tsukishima walks two steps behind him, and Kageyama fights the urge run. The lobby bathroom is thankfully, mercifully empty, and Kageyama catches a glimpse of his reflection in one of the mirrors before Tsukishima puts his hand on the back of his neck and guides him into a stall.

Eager. He looks eager. They both do.

Kageyama has never been in a public bathroom stall with anyone else before, so the small sizes have never bothered him. But two adult men taller than five foot-seven crammed together in one makes that issue very well known.

“Couldn't have gone to a bigger stall?”

“And give you room to squirm away?” Tsukishima says without missing a beat. He twirls his finger in the air, and although Kageyama was ready to fight back five minutes ago, he finds himself turning in the small space, chest nearly pressed against the door.

“Show me,” he repeats, and it's that voice again, the one that Kageyama hopes is more than just business as usual. The one he likes to believe is just because of him, even though he's certain it isn't. He's in far too deep now for logical thought.

Kageyama waits a beat, two, three, before he undoes his belt and unzips his pants. He keeps thinking Tsukishima will take charge like he always does, but the man doesn't make a sound until Kageyama’s bare ass is presented to him. Everything seems so loud now that they're alone, especially his heartbeat.

Tsukishima’s big, graceful hands are warm. They knead his ass before spreading him wide, and the little chuckle he gives has Kageyama feeling a little weak. 

“How long have you had this in?” This being the jeweled butt plug currently nestled in between Kageyama’s cheek.

“..few hours.”

“Mm.” Tsukishima pulls on the end, the jewel, the widest part barely tugging against his rim. “When did you put it in?”

Kageyama clenches his jaw, clearing his throat twice before he’s able to speak. “It was.. It's been–”

“Since I called you?” Long fingers tease at the inside of his thighs, stroking over soft skin that trembles underneath. “Since I asked you to wear it for me?” Kageyama jumps when he feels cool lips press against the back of his neck, though it lasts for half a second. “That's so cute, King. Following orders when I'm not even around. That deserves a reward.”

Kageyama doesn't know what to make of that. He's never been rewarded before, not even after he spent two hours as a table after cooking Tsukishima dinner. He looks at him over his shoulder and his mouth drops open at the look he gets. Like Tsukishima wants to replace the plug with something else. Like he _wants_ Kageyama.

“We’ll keep your pants down,” Tsukishima says as he fits his briefs back over his hips. He snaps the waistband against his skin, fits himself to Kageyama’s back so that there's no space between them. “But these need to be on. Wouldn't want to ruin your important suit, would we?”

“I can't believe you get paid to do this,” Kageyama grits out. The material of Tsukishima’s slacks against his overcharged skin makes him want to fidget. He still hasn't touched him, not properly, and it's driving Kageyama insane. In a twisted way, he’s gotten spoiled by the immediacy in which Tsukishima touches him at his home. How he takes his time undressing him, opening him up, arranging him in whatever position he had planned for the night.

“Just like you get paid to screw people over.” He laughs when Kageyama grunts, indignant. “I’m only teasing, King. I know what a big, strong, confident man you are. With your little company parties.”

That brings Kageyama back to his senses, back to exactly where he is and what he's doing. What if someone was looking for him? What if Ushijima returned? Tonight is one of the biggest accomplishments for his law firm and here he is with his pants around his ankles. Shame burns his cheeks and steals his voice.

“What would all your bright eyed employees think if they could see you right now?” Tsukishima coos, as if reading his mind. “If they could see how your pretty plug matches your pretty eyes?”

Tsukishima gets a hand on his cock and it's over. He hasn't touched him directly during any of their sessions, had only teased or watched as Kageyama rutted against something like an animal. His fingers squeeze him through his briefs and Kageyama knocks his head against the door to hide his groan of satisfaction. The plug shifts whenever he does, because Tsukishima is pretty much glued to his back, and he's sweating under his jacket and—

 _“Kageyama-san.”_ His name sounds so dirty whispered in his ear like that. “With his powerful voice and commanding attitude.” Tsukishima bites down on the tip of his ear and Kageyama moans, pushing his hips back against him and tightening up around the plug. He all but grinds into him, using the door as leverage. And the most surprising part of all—as if this entire night wasn't some big twist ending already—Tsukishima grinds right back.

“Did you think of me when you opened yourself up, King?” Warm breath on the side of his neck, lips barely touching his skin. “Did you pretend your fingers were mine?”

“Yes!”

Because it's true and he hates it. Because when he thought he wouldn't see the man tonight he became desperate. Because Kageyama was a creature of habit and despite his best efforts, something inside of him enjoys Tsukishima. His snark and his dominance and the aftercare and feeling like he would shake apart at any given moment when he was pushed to the limits like this.

“Yes,” he whispers, rolling his hips into Tsukishima’s hand. The friction from his briefs and the slow, steady pace makes him impatient, a feeling he's never had during their sessions. He's learned to wait and follow orders, has taken his punishments when he didn't comply to the rules. It feels like everything has turned on its head tonight. Tsukishima grips his hip hard and pulls him back just as he pushes forward.

”What a good little prince I have.”

It's a broken moan that earns him a little growl, and Tsukishima falters just a bit, no doubt surprised at himself for making the sound. And Kageyama doesn't even have the time to savor it, because just then the doors swing open and several pairs of footsteps enter the room. If Tsukishima is at all deterred by this it doesn't show, because instead of slowing down, or stopping, he slips his hand into Kageyama’s briefs and gets his thumb wet at the head. Kageyama covers his mouth and tries hard not to breathe, not to make a sound. His ears are ringing and his vision is spotty, his gaze on the floor, on his pants at his shoes. A strained whimper chokes its way from his throat when the stall one away from their own clicks shut.

“Who do you think it is?” The words are spoken so close to Kageyama’s ear they might as well be in his brain. He doesn't know who's out there and he doesn't care. He shakes his head, thrusting back harder, faster, coaxing Tsukishima to keep up with him. And he does.

They're dry humping in a hotel bathroom surrounded by who knows how many people. Tsukishima just keeps talking, his words turning every fear of discovery into something that Kageyama desperately wants. His head hangs low, both hands braced against the door again.

“I wonder where Kageyama-san left to. He wasn't in the lobby.” Yamaguchi. His favorite employee. The one who respects him the most is right on the other side of this door. 

His mouth drops open, a helpless groan on the verge of falling free and giving them away. Tsukishima gets his fingers in his mouth before that can happen, and Kageyama shakes apart under him. He comes in stages, each one leaving him weaker than the last, until he can't stand, until his vision is blurry and his face is hot and he's never felt this vulnerable.

The bathroom slowly empties until they're the only ones left inside. Tsukishima holds him up for what feels like too long and yet not long enough. He rubs his hip, let's Kageyama slump back against him until his legs stop shaking. He does up his pants, fixes his belt, even tucks in his shirt and straightens his jacket. Kageyama tries to catch his eye, but he's ignored. He stays put when the other man leaves, listening to the sink and the paper towel dispenser, before the bathroom is bathed in quiet once again. Only when he feels like he can walk without collapsing does he leave the stall himself.

Kageyama leans heavily against the sink, unable to look himself in the face. He knows what he’ll see: flushed cheeks, sweaty bangs, eyes still swimming in arousal. He doesn't need to see what he already knows he feels. Doesn't need to look to know what he wants.

He has to have Tsukishima Kei.

Soon.


End file.
